


You Killed Twenty One Pilots

by angelic_cherry



Category: BLURRYFACE - Twenty One Pilots (Album), Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Album), The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Comic), Twenty One Pilots
Genre: All My Sons, Alternate Universe, DEMA (Twenty One Pilots), Fighter Pilots, Freeform, Guns, Gunshot Wounds, Helium Wars, I Tried, Implied/Referenced Brainwashing, M/M, Pilot!Tyler, Scarecrow!Tyler, Soldier!Josh, Soldiers, War, War AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2020-05-13 15:54:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19254364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelic_cherry/pseuds/angelic_cherry
Summary: "You're a soldier," Tyler stated. "You should be used to this."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> where i post an au that only makes sense to me because i wont write the rest of it.
> 
> sort of a danger days au but more centered around the helium wars. also brainwashing is a thing.
> 
> context: tyler's fighter jet just fell out of the sky and crashed on a battle zone. he hit his head and snapped out of a brainwashed state.

Distant shouting, as well as the sound of ringing filled Tyler's ears. He flinched as he heard what must have been footsteps running by, but everything was black when he opened his eyes. He coughed weakly, inhaling dust as he tried to catch his breath. A nauseating sensation pierced his entire body, bringing on a terrible migraine and burning his lungs in a way that made it difficult to breathe.

Gunshots and explosions managed to keep him awake as he kept fading in and out of consciousness. He dug his fingers into the dirt and willed himself to pull his body out of the wreckage, but the weight of it kept him in place.

"Help-" he gasped, knowing his head gear would muffle his voice. "Help me..."

His stomach dropped at the idea that he might slowly die here. It was the first time, for as long as he could remember, that he was afraid to die.

"Help me! Please!" he screamed, sobbing breathlessly. His hyperventilating caused the helmet to become hot and suffocating.

Tyler flinched as something touched his hand and a voice called out, but he couldn't understand through the layers of wood and metal covering him. Instead he tapped the ground nine times, following the rhythm of S.O.S.

The stranger said something else, then Tyler heard the scraping of debris above him. Eventually, he was able to wiggle his left arm free and immediately began to drag himself out of the rubble.

"Come on," the stranger said, grabbing Tyler's forearm and pulling him further. "I've got you."

With his head in the clear, Tyler struggled to pull off his helmet, gasping desperately once it was off. The stranger kneeled over him, touching his face and shoulder.

"Are you okay? Are you hurt?" he asked.

Tyler shook his head, choking on air and staring down at his shaking hands. "I... can't breathe..."

"Hey, it's okay, you're okay. I'm gonna get you out of there, alright?"

Tyler nodded, crying out in pain every time the rubble shifted. 

"You're a pilot, right?" The stranger noted, "What's your name?"

"I don't know," Tyler answered between sobs. "They called me Blurryface, but I don't think that's my name. I think it's actually Tyler."

"Alright, Tyler. I'm Josh," he said. "Just try and breathe, okay? Stay alive for me, I'm getting you out."

"Okay," Tyler rasped, closing his eyes tightly and burying his face in his arms. Josh managed to get all the debris off of him and helped him to his feet. Tyler clung on to him as pain shot up through his legs.

"Can you walk?"

"It hurts," Tyler answered, "But I think so, yeah."

"Okay, good," Josh grabbed the pilot's shoulders and looked him dead in the eyes. "Stay close behind me and don't get shot."

Tyler nodded, stumbling as Josh didn't waste any time pulling him past soldiers and gunfire. He became short of breath, hyper aware of his surroundings and the dangers that seemed to pile up around him. As a pilot, he was always protected by layers of steel, so being out in the open was, to put it simply, terrifying. Now he was exposed, hyperventilating, and struggling to keep up with Josh on legs that felt broken.

The soldier pulled him behind a dirt wall, ducking low with Tyler falling behind him. He handed Tyler a small hand gun as he peered over his shoulder.

"That's for emergencies," Josh instructed, "You know how to shoot a gun, right? Aim, pull the trigger, and brace for recoil. That's the short version." Tyler breathed out nervously, shoving it in one of his pockets with trembling hands. "How do you feel?"

"I'm terrified," Tyler admitted. "I'm not used to feeling this way. I don't remember ever feeling like this, but I also don't remember ever feeling anything, so-"

"Physically."

"Oh, um," Tyler stuttered over his words, eyes constantly darting and searching for any sign of danger. "M-my legs really hurt. Head hurts. It's really hard to breathe, too, and there's this kind of... pinching sensation in my side. It feels hot."

"Pinching?" Josh echoed, turning back to Tyler. He pushed Tyler over slightly, earning a pained grunt. Just as he expected, a patch of red slowly grew over a spot where his flight suit was torn. "Fuck."

"What-"

Josh immediately covered Tyler's eyes, pressing his other hand to the wound. "Don't look, don't ask questions, and don't stop, no matter what. You hear me?"

"What?"

"Let's go."

In a flash, Josh gripped Tyler's hand and started running, not giving him any opportunity to let go. He'd drag him, if he had to. Tyler kept his eyes shut tight, stumbling and tripping while trying to keep up with Josh's pace.

The pain began to set in. The heat only got hotter and wetter, blending a numbing sensation with that of burning. Every so often, the weight of running would agitate the wound, pulsing inside him with a dull ache that only got worse and worse. His feet dragged beneath him, and eventually he collapsed at Josh's side.

A hand gripped Tyler's arm. He held onto the feeling, as if that hand was the one thing keeping him from slipping into the dark pit of unconsciousness. He coughed up something thick and disgusting before he was pulled up off the ground and pushed back-down onto a bed.

"Tyler," Josh called out, "Talk to me."

Tyler only groaned in response, confused and losing blood. Josh ripped away the fabric of Tyler's suit with a swiss knife, making sure to not cut his skin.

"That's good, keep making sound," Josh mumbled, tearing off the rest of the fabric with his hands. Blood poured out of the bullet hole and onto the bed. "I need an antiseptic."

Another paramedic opposite of Josh, named Chantal, quickly handed him a bottle of pure cleaning alcohol, which he hastily poured over a washcloth. He pressed it onto the wound, causing Tyler to scream and writhe in pain.

"Stay still, Tyler. I can't have you doing that right now."

Josh finished cleaning the wound and began sterilizing some of his equipment, all the while Tyler was whimpering in protest, hand over his mouth to muffle his cries. Josh stepped over and prepped the wound again, cleaning up the rest of the blood.

All Tyler felt was something sharp, coupled with the sensation of pulling. Add that to multiple broken bones and Josh poking around skin that was already sensitive, and Tyler arched his back completely off the bed, screaming in agony as he tried desperately to get away.

"Tyler!" Josh hissed as the thread snapped, then yanked him back down by his arm. "Chantal, can you please sedate him?"

"On it."

"Wait!" Tyler screeched, failing to pull his other arm away before Chantal grabbed it. "No, no, no! Don't touch me!!"

Josh watched quietly as Tyler thrashed about, face flushed and sweating as he screamed at the top of his lungs like a kid at the doctor's. He was a bit shocked by Tyler, having only seen a reaction like this in children. Most soldiers hardly flinched at having their arms ripped off, let alone being poked with a simple needle.

Despite Tyler's struggles, Chantal managed to get the needle into his arm, releasing the medication as quickly as possible.

"I don't want to see that stuff again," he wailed, getting noticably weaker. "Please, don't make me do it again."

Josh didn't say a word, deciding it was best to not entertain the ramblings of a traumatized brain. He got to work on stitching up the wound, ignoring the pilot's slurred protests. Eventually, Tyler's breathing evened out, and for him, everything went black.


	2. Blurryface

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> time skip a few months. tyler doesnt seem much like tyler anymore.

"Wh--" Josh flinched, sinking into his couch with his hands up. "What- what are you doing here?"

"Quiet," the pilot growled, his pure white gun pointed right at the space between Josh's eyes. "You know why I'm here."

"I don't."

"I'll fill you in," he said. Josh expected it to be about the last time he saw Tyler; passed out in a hospital bed that looked ten years too old. Of course, Tyler would have been there for months as he recovered, and the staff wasn't too keen on keeping their patients company. "Do you remember confirming a shipment order on May 19th?"

"Shipment order?"

"Your name was found on a shipment confirmation receipt. You signed off on the delivery of faulty jet equipment, causing malfunctions in multiple fighter jets known as the FPE9 Vulture Storms."

"Do you have this receipt?" Josh asked.

"It's locked away in Evidence," Tyler answered, stepping closer. "Maybe this will jog your memory? One-five-three-eight-eight-six-four-two, fourteen."

"And that means?"

"The order confirmation number."

"Hold on a minute." Josh stood up, his hands still by his head. Tyler took a few steps back as if he were intimidated. He should have noticed the soldiers trembling fingertips. "What relevance does this have? Why does this warrant a gun to my head?"

"You're a soldier," Tyler stated. "You should be used to this."

"Why are you here?"

Their glares held steady at each other, unblinking; bold and unafraid to die. Only, Josh was. But God as his witness, he wouldn't show it. He'd plant his feet in the ground and have a stand off with anyone, gun pointed at him or not. He would pretend as if he couldn't feel the hot static in the air around him, the burning of Tyler's finger as it brushed the trigger, ready and waiting; Not afraid to die, not afraid to kill. Josh acted as if the pilot's eyes hadn't changed from the last time he saw them, going from scared and confused to piercing, cold, and empty.

"You killed twenty-one pilots."

Josh didn't move. He didn't know how to react. His breathing became short and an electric chill rolled through his body.

"Tyler," Josh mumbled.

"Who is Tyler?"

"...You. You're Tyler. That's what you told me."

"Is this some kind of joke?" he shouted, stepping forward and pushing the barrel into Josh's chest. He stumbled backwards, falling back into the sofa. "My name is Blurryface. You are some kind of sick fuck to call me 'Tyler.'"

"That's what you said when I pulled you out-"

Tyler's glare sharpened. "I'm going to assume you mean Tyler Joseph?"

"I-"

"Tyler Joseph is dead."

Josh's eyes widened. He must've died in the hospital, all alone. But if he was dead, why did 'Blurryface' look so much like him?

"He died because of you, Joshua."

"I didn't kill him," Josh faltered. "I tried to save his life!"

"This isn't my choice to make," Tyler divulged. "And I don't care enough to spare your life. Say a prayer if you want. You're lucky I'm merciful enough to allow you that."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol bet u didnt expect me to base this off of all my sons. i really just wanted to write a tense scene for this au, and the plot kind of built itself. i dont know what else i'll do for this au but i might come up with something,, just enjoy reading it and come up with whatever u want to fill in the gaps lol


End file.
